


So I'm drinking

by theseasdancingotter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Feels, Conflicted feelings over John's death, Drunk Dean, Gen, Guilt, Guilty Dean Winchester, John's birthday after his death, One Shot, Sam's a good brother, Season 2, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 09:31:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6418168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theseasdancingotter/pseuds/theseasdancingotter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's dead and today would have been his 53 birthday. Dean tries and fails to handle the guilt he feels for playing a large part in his father's death.<br/>A one shot.</p>
<p>"Dean sighed and looked down at the latest in a long line of empty glasses. He pushed it away and tapped for another, burying his face in his hands. He was going to deserve the hangover he would wake up  tomorrow with. If he was honest with himself, he thought he deserved worse."</p>
            </blockquote>





	So I'm drinking

Dean sighed and looked down at the latest in a long line of empty glasses. He pushed it away and tapped for another, burying his face in his hands. He was going to deserve the hangover he would wake up  tomorrow with. If he was honest with himself, he thought he deserved worse.

In no time at all, the bartender was filling another dingy glass to the top and siting it in front of him. The stuff smelled like some unholy child of gasoline and nail polish remover, but when the only criteria you give the bartender is strong and cheap you can't really complain. Dean took a sip of it and gagged.

"You doin' ok son?" The thick man asked from above him, wiping a glass from behind the bar clean with the corner of his shirt. Dean vaguely remembered him saying that his name was Tony, at least he thought he remembered him saying that.

"Need me to call someone?" Possibly Tony asked.

Dean shook his head and felt the world spin for a second. "Naw,” he lied, trying to steady himself, “I'm just starting to have fun."

The Bartender frowned, but eventually shrugged and went back to work. As long as Dean kept paying him he couldn't really complain.

_ Money _ , the eldest Winchester thought,  _ was beautiful like that _ .  Dean smiled faintly to himself, "Now that's finally something to drink to". Taking the latest glass in a shot, Dean felt his vision go dark and then promptly passed out against the bar.

What couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes later, he woke to someone shaking him.

" _ Sonnofabitch _ ." He said in a mumble, not raising his head. "I'm awake. I'm awake."

" _ Clearly _ ".

Dean blinked heavily, he knew that voice.

He looked up through squinted eyes. "Sammy, go back to bed."

"That's cheap talk coming from you", his younger brother told him.

"See", Dean said from his seat, rubbing his face against the wood of the bar, "that's-that is the greatest thing about being the oldest. The world is my oyster. I make the rules and everyone else goes to hell".

"How drunk are you?"

Dean gave his head a bobbing shake. "Nope."

Sam raised his eyebrows skeptically and sniffed one of his brother's empty glasses. He made a face and immediately set it back down. "Look, I get why you're here man. But isn't this a little much?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

" _ Sure _ ", Sam said taking the seat to his right. “Just like this has nothing to do with the fact that today’s Dad's birthday."

Dean’s head jerked up and he fixed his brother with an angry look, doing his best not to fall forward again. “ **_Shut up_ ** ”.

Sam looked at him hard for a second and then shook his head,"No, okay, I won't. The Demon killed him. It's not your fault. Dad made his choice."

Dean pushed himself out of his stool, which subsequently fell and banged dully against the ground. " **He shouldn't have had to make it** ."

Sam splayed out his hands in a  gesture of surrender. "I get it, you blame yourself, you don-"

"NO," Dean almost shouted at him, "YOU DON'T ' **_GET IT_ ** _ ' _ . You think you understand all these little things Sammy and you just don't. It was my job to protect everybody. I failed.  Dad's death’s on my head.”

Hearing all of this noise, the bartender gave them both a pointed look of warning and Sam continued in a harsh whisper, righting the fallen stool. "The Demon attacked us and then we were in a car crash Dean."

Dean couldn’t have cared less about remaining quiet.  "Yeah, and you and Dad got out of it with a couple scrapes and bruises, nothing new."

"You were _ tortured _ .”

“I shoulda managed.” Dean asserted.

“ Would you rather be dead? Is that what this is?"

" _ I'd rather _ we still had the colt and some goddamn idea of where that goddamn yellow-eyed son of a bitch is."

"We'll figure it out, we always do. Dad wasn't perfect,” Sam let out a short bitter laugh, “he wasn't even remotely perfect, but he gave you another chance so that-."

Dean didn’t let him finish. "Yeah, and what am I supposed to do huh? Say I'm grateful? He's dead Sam, he can’t hear me. And the worst part is that's  not even really why i'm drinkin’. Hell, I was furious when it hap-happened, terrified now that he was gone, but after these months I just...”, he trailed off for a second. “I feel good Sammy.  _ Relieved _ ."

"Dean..."

The words fell out of his mouth like  angry shards of glass, "It's dad's birthday and there’s this part of me’s happy that he's not here. So I’m drinking. Hoping to god that I can forget everything until the day’s over.  Because every second I sit here happ y .” An angry tear ran down Dean’s face, just catching in hi s stubble. “It’s like I’m spitting on his grave. And I-I” His voice broke, “I just can’t.”

Sam’s eyebrows knit with concern. “Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Dean laughed in a way that could only be described as cold and slightly unhinged, “And what would I have said?”

“I don’t know,” Sam quickly conceded, clenching his fists. “But saying anything would have been better than  _ this _ .  You can’t just carry this crap around man, it’s going to kill you. I,” Sam took a breath, “You’re my big brother, let me help you for once.” 

Dean’s stool squeaked softly as he slumped back down onto it. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand as if he were trying to smooth out the bags underneath them. “You deserve a better one.”

“Then be a better one and let it go.”

For a while Dean looked pained, but eventually the tension on his face gave way to a crooked smile “Bitch”.

Sam laughed at their old joke, “Jerk”. He replied, finishing it.

The bartender, ever timely, made his way back over to the brothers. “You two going to need anything else?”

Dean was going to say no, but much to his surprise his brother spoke  first, ordering two small drinks. Probably Tony, quick as ever, sat the two glasses in front of them and Sam handed one to Dean. 

“To moving forward.” Sam said raising his own.

Dean lifted his to meet it. “To moving forward”.

Dean may not have entirely forgiven himself, but as their glasses clinked together for a second he was able to pretend that he had.

**Author's Note:**

> The ending is a little shoehorned but I'll hopefully be able to come back and make it better because I adore these characters. :) Any comments would be lovely.


End file.
